As the hunting season seldom extended beyond the first days of February, the huntsmen were all eager to take advantage of the few remaining weeks to enjoy their favorite pastime.

Every day the forest resounded with the shouts of beaters-up and the barking of the hounds.

From Auberive, Praslay and Grancey, rendezvous were made in the woods of Charbonniere or Maigrefontaine; nothing was thought of but the exploits of certain marksmen, the number of pieces bagged, and the joyous outdoor breakfasts which preceded each occasion.

One evening, as Julien, more moody than usual, stood yawning wearily and leaning on the corner of the stove, Claudet noticed him, and was touched with pity for this young fellow, who had so little idea how to employ his time, his youth, or his money.
He felt impelled, as a conscientious duty, to draw him out of his unwholesome state of mind, and initiate him into the pleasures of country life.
"You do not enjoy yourself with us, Monsieur Julien," said he, kindly; "I can't bear to see you so downhearted.

You are ruining yourself with poring all day long over your books, and the worst of it is, they do not take the frowns out of your face.